Page 126 of Stand: Part One

“Because she’s mine,” he growled. “Now, back off before I have to involve your husband.”

Michelle rolled her eyes and downed her drink, slamming it onto the table.

“Fine, fine. Don’t share. But at least let me take her for a dance then. She’s going to need to let loose any minute now.”

What the shit? Why would I need to do that?

And then like fucking clockwork, I felt a lightness floating through my limbs, a dubious sense of joy tugging at my lips. Awareness snapped my attention back to the damn glass on the table, irritation braiding itself with the odd rush of endorphins.

I felt my shoulders begin to sway to the music, my movements instantly drawing Darren’s interest back to me. The wolfish grin curving up his face was all the confirmation I needed.

“Goddamn you,” I managed to growl before giggling my annoyance.

Darren planted a quick kiss against my temple. “You were too tense. You should relax.”

Why? So I can make an ass out of myself for your entertainment? No thanks.

“What did you give me?”

“Nothing you won’t enjoy,” he answered, then took my chin in his hand and pressed his lips to mine, completely ignoring Michelle. I loathed the way his kiss warmed my stomach, sending a rush of blood to my pelvis where it collected and pulsed for attention.

Damn him and his skillful tongue, pushing me to an edge that promised pain, pleasure, and guilt. If he kept kissing me like this, then we’d be bound for one hell of a display for the unsuspecting crowd and his business associates.

Sensing the same dilemma, he finally released my lips, groaning as he did.

“What exactly am I not interested in?” I asked, finding my words difficult to form.

Darren leaned down into my ear. “Michelle swings both ways, and is a popular dominatrix at the club she and her husband own.”

“Oh…ooohhh,” I sang, understanding suddenly clicking in my head. “I can see it. She has an amazing body that I’m totally jealous of. I want muscles like that.”

Fuck, why am I admitting this shit?

Darren frowned down at me. “No. Your body is exactly the way I want it. You’re lucky that I actually find your little four-pack to be as adorably sufficient as it is.”

I scoffed at him, waving him off with the sway of my hand. But then movement behind him caught my eye as I watched the twins rise from the couch, giggling as they did.

“Come on! Come dance!” they called enthusiastically, their hips moving playfully with the music.

Michelle then turned back to Darren, a knowing smile on her face.

“Come on, Darren, let the girl dance,” she teased, standing up and stepping down from the booth to the floor. She then held out her hand in silent invitation.

And goddammit, I actually wanted to. I wanted to unleash my body to the music and dance like I had when I was in my early twenties. When not a single obligation could breach the strength of the alcohol and endorphins running through my veins. When the world of responsibility melted away for just a few blissful moments.

A heavy sigh hissed from Darren’s throat, the telltale sign of his begrudging approval.

“Go on,” he relented, nodding toward the crowd and the women still waving for me to join them. “I know you want to.”

I did want to, my teeth biting into my lip as I watched the dancing sea of bodies entice me more and more. But was it even a good idea?

Darren groaned again as he grabbed my chin. “Go,” he ordered, “before I change my mind and fuck you over this table until you scream.”

“Okay,” I murmured, my eyes connecting with Michelle and the women waving me on. But the second I moved to stand, the steel grip of Darren’s hand around my arm pulled me back down. “What the?—”

“Stay where I can see you,” he warned, his voice sharpened with that terrifying sternness I hated hearing. “Do not go too far.”

I nodded, my hand reaching out behind me for purchase while my eyes remained locked with his, fearful that the second I looked away again, he’d pounce. But the action was short-lived as Michelle grabbed my hand and yanked me out of the booth.